When we arrived back at the mansion, I expected to find Bobby’s ghost. He was fatally injured; surely, he would join us on the other side soon. He had to have burns to much of his body and was missing chunks of skin.

But he lingered.

His Grit, I noticed, was through the roof. I couldn’t figure out why until I realized what had happened.

Cassie had done it.

After he was injured, Cassie had accidentally activated her Empathic Shield ability when she showed such genuine concern for him. Then, when she used The Anguish to share his pain, it must have doubled up. It was a great combo to use before someone was fatally injured. She used it afterward.

She buffed his Grit by five points. Luckily, that meant he didn’t feel much pain. Unluckily, it meant he was taking forever to die.

I had been there. Pain-free injuries still took their toll. My brain struggled to understand what was going on in some deep, primal way.

“How do we help him?” Kimberly asked tearfully.

Antoine shook his head. Bobby twitched and gurgled.

“I don’t think… I don’t think we can.”

If memory served, Arthur had a trope just for that.

We watched as his Dead indicator lit up for longer and longer periods of time.

“Cassie still needs help,” Isaac said, cutting through the silence.

He was right. She was severely injured, too. She had breathed in a lot of smoke. Her Grit was still very low (that made her Anguish trope stronger), which meant she was going to have a fairly realistic reaction to the damage. No movie magic would protect her.

I got Antoine and Kimberly to follow me to the entrance to the secret passage. We found Cassie there, awake but coughing and ill.

“Are we supposed to bring her to the hospital?” Antoine asked.

It seemed obvious that she needed medical attention, but Carousel’s hospital system had some major shortcomings.

They opted to bring her anyway. Isaac and I didn’t get to follow. The white, glowing fog stopped us like a brick wall.

It was just us ghosts again.

“How are you doing, Isaac?” I asked.

He was stone-faced for a while but then said, “I never thought I would be caught dead wearing a shirt like this.”

He flipped the large wing collar of his shirt and smirked.

If he wanted to crack jokes and power through, I wasn’t going to stop him.

----------------------------------------

We found Bobby sitting with his knees in his chest next to his body. He had a peaceful yet distant look on his face.

“Bad break there,” I said.

“Bad break,” he repeated. After a bit of silence, he added, “Why does Carousel bother to keep us alive once we’re useless? It’s telling a story. Did it keep me alive just to watch me squirm? I wasn’t even On-Screen most of the time.”

I explained my theory about Cassie buffing his Grit to him.

He nodded. “That makes sense. Don’t tell her I said anything. No use making her feel bad.” He looked around. “I guess the others survived?”

“Cassie is injured, but I don’t know how bad.”

“And the Die Cast?” he asked. “The script wasn’t clear.”

I nodded in the direction of the river. “Flask drowned. Gale Zaragoza’s body is in the river, too. Antoine couldn’t haul him out. The body was just too heavy, the stream too strong. He tried having an emotional moment with his old friend’s body, but Carousel didn’t go for it.”

Bobby nodded.

With nothing else to spend our time doing, Isaac and I sat next to Bobby right there at the entrance to the burned-out mansion. NPC firemen and EMTs ran this way and that. News crews showed up to report on the carnage. Ghosts of Geists and friends wandered aimlessly. They mourned their deaths in their own ways. Bobby’s body was taken away.

I watched for Carlyle, but I didn’t see him. I didn’t want to see him. When he died, I remembered thinking that at least I wouldn’t have to face him about my character’s betrayal. Now, I feared that confrontation.

Would Carousel let me explain that I was just acting under duress? Would he understand?

I had to let go of the thought.

The three of us didn’t talk to each other that much. There was peace in the silence. Even the ghosts that walked by us crying did so silently. Silent as the grave, the saying goes.

We were in the Finale and appeared to be heading toward the true ending. Project Rewind was working.

The secrets of this universe of pain were never closer to being revealed than they were right at that moment. Yet, I didn’t want to focus on that. I didn’t want to dwell on any of it. I had not had the opportunity to just sit silently and think about nothing in a very long time.

The thoughts that ran through my mind every moment since we arrived at Carousel raced no longer.

I didn’t even notice when all signs of life left the area, when the smoke stopped rising from the heap.

I didn’t notice time passing. It may not have. Carousel had enough control over us to dupe our perception of everything.

The peace was long and unbroken until Bobby said, “Eight Years Later!”

He was reading off the script.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Oh lord,” I said.

“Where are the ambulances?” Isaac said. “They were just here.”

I took a few moments to take in our surroundings again.

“We got taken off the board,” I said. “Carousel set everything up for the Finale.”

I knew it was going to happen, but I had not noticed it when it did.

“My dogs!” Bobby said. “Oh no, I forgot about my dogs!”

“Bobby,” I said.

“I left them back at the farm,” he said. “Oh god, eight years.”

“Bobby,” I said. “It hasn’t been eight years. I know it feels like it, but that’s just Carousel. It’s probably been thirty minutes for all we know.”

Whatever stillness had moved over him from dying had left.

“Bobby, it’s okay,” I said.

He was up on his feet and pacing.

“I meant to go check on them,” he said. “I didn’t mean to leave them alone. What if it was a test and I failed? What if I died because I left them alone? Maybe Carousel punished me?”

Bobby, the anxious ghost, turned to me and said, “I have to go find the dogs. Just to check on them.”

I restrained myself from rolling my eyes. Not very well.

“Bobby, they are NPCs. They are not normal dogs. They do not need you. When the story ends, they’ll be right there waiting for you, tails-a-wagging.”

Bobby was having none of it. “You can just talk yourself out of caring about anything, can’t you,” he said. He was muttering to himself. “I can’t. I can’t do that. I can’t talk myself out of looking everywhere for… I… I need to care about the people I love, like actively caring about them. I can’t put that out of my mind just because it’s convenient. You are all weird, all of you. ‘Just let it go.’ If we let everything go, what’s the point?”

Death had a way of making you rethink your life. Bobby had faced his life and came to much the same conclusions he had when he was living. There he was. This was the Bobby who almost got his whole team killed looking for his wife.

I was just going to let him blow off steam.

He turned to leave, but the bright, white fog didn’t let him go. No path opened up for him.

“I’m just going to take a look,” he said.

Carousel didn’t budge.

Bobby paced and circled to no avail.

I might have said more, but as soon as Bobby saw “Eight Years Later” on the script, I saw it on the red wallpaper using Deathwatch.

“Bobby, quit,” I said. “Something’s happening.”

He didn’t exactly quit, but I stopped paying attention to him.

“What’s going on?” Isaac asked.

I started to laugh as the scene unfolded in my mind. Carousel was being cute again; I was sure of it.

I saw Dyer’s Lake. I saw Camp Dyer again for the first time in a long time.

I saw those creepy little girls who had harassed me so much back when we lived in Dyer’s Lodge.

A group of them were walking along the lakeside poking things with sticks and teasing their overweight friend.

Then, one of them spotted something. “What’s that?”

She pointed to a muddy object that was bobbing in the water.

“It’s got silver on it,” one of them said.

Indeed, it did. As they walked closer and examined the object, one brave one reached out and picked it up. The camera did not yet show what it was.

“It’s filthy,” she said. She plunged it into the water and brushed away some of the mud.

It was the flask.

She popped it open and poured out the water from within. Little bits of burned debris flowed out.

The scene ended. Nothing else was On-Screen, so Deathwatch went blank.

“The flask’s been found,” I said. “Campers found it on Dyer’s Lake.”

“There’s a surprise,” Isaac said.

We knew something was going to happen. The Die Cast had a trope to always come back. Our victory over it in Second Blood was always going to be short-lived. After all, if Ramona’s claims about the real Centennial were correct, the Die Cast still had one last party to crash.

We just didn’t know how it would happen. In fact, that part still wasn’t clear. Roderick Gray no longer had the flask. If no one did the ritual, how would the Die Cast return?

The three of us discussed the dilemma, which is to say, Isaac and I did. Bobby was still focused inward.

Eventually, a path opened up in the fog. Bobby was the first to follow it. Isaac and I hurried after him.

“It’s going in the wrong direction,” Bobby said after a while. “It’s going north.”

Indeed it was. After a few blocks, it was clear we were going toward the river. In fact, we were going right back to where the last fight had happened.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to see your dogs,” Isaac said.

“Me too,” Bobby said. “Sorry about all that... I just wasn’t built to be alone.”

----------------------------------------

Sure enough, we approached the river right where Gale’s body had been left. The park, which had been lush and well-kept when we tackled the Die Cast into the water, was now unused and overgrown with thick, woody plants.

I wondered how that could be, but a quick glance at the graffitied little plaque at the entrance of the area answered my question. “Maintained by the Geist Foundation.”

Ah. No more Geists, no more pretty riverside parks.

That would explain why I would later see Gale Zaragoza’s body still submerged in the deep part of the water where it had been. If the park had been more crowded, some little kid might have found that body. As it was, no one was around anymore. The neighborhood near the park had been boarded up.

Yes, Carousel had done some redecorating, though I didn’t know if it was done by NPCs or some other magic.

As we got to the water’s edge, I saw why we were being led here.

A woman sat on the concrete barrier next to the water.

It was Dina.

I couldn’t see her on the red wallpaper. Everything was grayed out. I was blocked.

That must have been the work of Guarded Personality, her trope that prevented insight abilities from working, including basic red wallpaper information.

Even so, Dina was not what concerned me the most.

She sat on the ledge, her feet in the water.

Next to her, there was a ghost. I recognized him.

I had seen his body.

It was Gale Zaragoza. The real Gale Zaragoza.

As we approached, he whispered something soft and gentle in her ear: “In the final battle, it’ll be up to you.”

Dina looked over at him.

I swear I had never seen her look this way before. She looked vulnerable, tender.

“I don’t know if I can,” she said. “I have trouble showing real emotion anymore. It’s like I have a wall, and I put everything behind it so that I could do what it took to come here. I don’t know if I can do what you’re asking me to.”

“You’re not as far gone as you think, Dina,” Gale said. “Most of the players that take your role don’t have the emotional strength you do. They don’t have the determination. I see the passion hidden in you. You have to reach in and channel it like a flowing river. I saw something in you on our wedding day behind the façade. The audience will see what I see.”

“That’s what I’m most afraid of,” she said. “I have seen the way Carousel likes to twist the knife.”

“You will get past this,” he said. “You will call for me, tell me you love me, and I will do the rest. Don’t let Carousel fool you; love can win here. I have seen it.”

“On the other players who got this role,” Dina said. “Your other wives.”

“Don’t you get started with that again,” Gale said with a smile.

Dina laughed, and then she stopped laughing abruptly.

She had a trope called An Outsider’s Perspective that made her aware of odd things and changes very quickly.

That meant she noticed Bobby, Isaac, and I on the red wallpaper out of the corner of her eye.

“My team’s here,” she said. She pulled away from Gale and stood up.

“Riley?” she said loudly. “I can see your poster. Are you here?”

I didn’t have any dialogue to flashback with her because I had shared no scenes with her either On-Screen or off.

I looked at Gale.

“I’m assuming she can hear you?” I said. She had the trope called Encouragement from Beyond, which would normally provide comfortable memories or vague reminders of her character’s dead loved ones, but this storyline apparently allowed her to carry on a love affair with her character’s dead husband.

Gale nodded.

“They’re here,” he said.

“Things must not have gone too well if we have three dead already,” she said.

“We’re on track, I think,” I said. “We managed to get this far. Why can’t I see information about her on the red wallpaper?”

Gale relayed my question, and then she answered. “Sorry. All I knew about this storyline back in ’84 was that there was a spirit that possessed people. Gale wasn’t allowed to tell me too much at first. I took you off the whitelist in case you got possessed. Guess now that you’re dead, that isn’t so risky.”

Instantly, I could see her poster again. I could also see the Casting Director entry for her.

> Dina Zaragoza (Cano): the grieving wife of Gale Zaragoza, who tried to run away from her sorrows until a mysterious message from beyond led her to fight for love one last time.

“So that’s where you’ve been,” I said.

After the message was relayed to her, she nodded. “Gale’s been telling me how we can beat this thing and set him free.”

Of course, he has.

Gale was an NPC on the red wallpaper. Despite that, he was apparently very aware of what was going on. It made sense that he would have meta-awareness if his job was to walk a player through their role. We sat down and relayed our experiences back and forth.

It was time to see exactly how Dina’s character fit into this story.